Silken Ties
by Leonaria Dragonbane
Summary: Victor finds that there are those that can be bound only by a piece of silk.  Can he handle the headiness of controlling a slave, or will he succumb to her charms.  A look at Victor as Master with a true slave, will he lose control?


A/N I've been working on this one, in the back of my mind, for years. I am finally getting it down on paper. For those who are waiting for updates to some of my other things. I have several in the works, but as many of you know, who have read me for a while, I'm kinda ADD with plots. Something new pops up and I'm chasing another plot bunny. I haven't forgotten any of you or the stories that are sitting there waiting for updates, its just that Victor is completely awake again, and making it hard for me to concentrate on life, or writing anything but what he wants to see at the moment. I just don't have the heart to lock the kitty back up again, especially when he plays with his string ball while I'm writing, or chases his catnip...anyway, enjoy the ride. Oh...I guess I better put in the warning.

DO NOT READ PAST THIS POINT IF YOU ARE NOT ABLE TO HANDLE VERY MATURE CONTENT. THIS IS A STORY ABOUT A RELATIONSHIP BETWEEN A SLAVE AND HER MASTER AND IS VERY VERY VERY MATURE! Again if you can't handle mature content DO NOT READ PAST THIS POINT!

And now, act I

Silken Ties

He sat back in the shadows, glaring at Toad. "It'll be fun." He said. "Maybe you'll find something to play with." He said. "I hear they save the best for last, the real deal." He said. So far it had been a drunken mess of self proclaimed slaves auctioning themselves off to a 'master' for the night.

The tempo of the music changed to something more oriental or arabic, as the debauched revelers left with their "purchases. Victor looked around the 'buyers' room. He saw three Saudi princes, two third world dictators coming in and taking recently abandoned seats, four US Senators, and one general. He also saw the owners of fifteen large corporations. Maybe Toad had been right, if only for blackmail material this was worth the trip.

"Ladies and gentlemen, as you know the next segment of the auction is for women of virtue. Pure and untouched." The computer enhanced voice of the auctioneer intoned. Victor grunted, the last thing he needed in a playmate was a damned virgin. "After the auction of the pure, we have six excellently trained, unmarked by discipline, and in need of new masters, these are true slaves, the new master will be completely responsible for them, the cannot, with the extensive training they have had, exist in the outside world. Fair warning for the buyer, the opening bids are worthy of their training."

Victor snorted again. There weren't 'true' slaves anymore, the world destroyed the practice, and for good reason.

Toad bid on three of the virgins but lost each time, Victor actually laughed the third time. After the virgin auction, two of the princes left, and several of the business owners.

He had to admit this place was well organized, even the 'virgins' put themselves on the block so there was no actual 'enslavement" on the auction house's end. What happened to them after that, Victor didn't care. The music changed again, something slow, peaceful. It struck a discord with him until he saw the first 'slave'.

She was large, her eyes downcast, her rough Germanic features belied the serene movements and submissive behavior. She knelt in the center of the auction block and waited, without even twitching a muscle.

Victor watched the auction with renewed interest. There was something different about these offerings, something in her scent, that told him this wasn't an act.

"Slave 331, name at the winners discretion. Born in Germany, was taken at a young age into the house of Fartook the Turk. Excellent housekeeper and cook, trained to run a household, not trained as a body slave. Opening bid, three million US dollars."

Victor sucked in a breath, they weren't kidding about the opening bids. That was three jobs worth of work.

"I currently have seven point five million." He hadn't seen the bids. He started watching the buyers more closely.

"Sold." She'd gone to the last prince for ten million dollars. He heard a murmur from the burkaed woman behind the prince "She will make setting up household much easier."

The next one came out, without prodding, her escorts didn't even touch her. Victor sat up and took notice. She was dressed like a classic Hollywood starlet in a gold satin gown that clung to every curve.

"This prize was captured in Germany as a very small child, speaks six languages fluently. Name at the discretion of the winner. She has had three masters, and is more than excellently trained as a body slave. A word of caution to the buyer, she has a sharp mind, but is loyal to her owners. Opening bid is fifteen million dollars."

Victor didn't hesitate. She was small, she would barely come to below his shoulder but he had to have her. They didn't mention the mutation, so her other owners probably didn't know, but he could smell it.

"I am currently at fifty million." Victor upped his bid again, that damned Senator was not going to take his prize.

Victor glared at he old man, dared him to increase again.

"Sold, for one hundred million dollars." Victor hoped like hell she was worth it. Toad glared at him

"By God, I hope ya intend ta share." He said. His only response was a low threatening growl. "Guess not."

She was brought to his table, a simple piece of silk ribbon tied around her throat, the end of it placed in his hand. She knelt on the floor at his feet, and he grinned. This frail already had a good chance of making it, now he was going to have to try her out.

The rest of the auction passed in a blur until the last lot. He almost missed the slight tension in her neck. The lot was two girls, not more than fifteen. He glared at Toad, but when the opening bid was only one million he caught himself bidding, when he won at one point five, the tension left his new plaything and he had three new slaves that he had no idea what he was going to do with.

The three purchases all climbed quietly into the back seat of his SUV, and did not make a sound as he pulled out into traffic. Toad, who was seated next to him, just kept glancing into the back seat. Who would have believed he'd buy a frail, much less three right in the heart of the city of Chicago. He drove out of the city, and tried to figure out where he was going to house his new acquisitions.

He'd been fighting his control since her 'leash' was placed in his hand, he knew he wasn't going to get any relief for the throbbing in his groin, not for several days, several long, erotic days. The other two, he frankly had no idea.

The safe house in the suburbs wasn't safe enough for him, so he dropped Toad off and kept driving. He wanted someplace he could have time to enjoy his purchase, in seclusion and quiet, except her screams.

He had a property nearby, but hadn't been there in years. He hoped it was habitable, at least with enough comfort to enjoy himself.

The silence in the car started to bother even him.

"So, what's the deal with them?" He asked. The soft, soothing voice surprised him.

"They are sisters, raised in my last master's household, Master."

"You didn't want to be separated from them?"

"That is Master's choice, but I did help raise them, they are trained for kitchen service, they are both mutes, and have never experienced body service." her voice was melodic, and he began to wonder if it was a part of her mutation. If not, he hoped to hell she could sing.

He nodded, he still didn't know what he was going to do with them, but mute wasn't that much fun, at least not in bed. He saw the rusted mail box and swung the SUV into the drive without even slowing down. The silence surprised him, he'd expected at least something from his first purchase. She was as quiet as a mouse.

"Okay, Mouse, they're mute, anything else I should know?"

"Nothing I can think of Master." She said as he pulled up in front of the old farm house.

It didn't look like much, on the outside. It needed paint and repair, but inside other than a few years of dust on top of the dust covers for the furniture it was in good shape.

He flicked a switch, but the lights didn't come on. He hoped the generator had gas in it as he stomped through the house and out the back door to a small shed between the house and the barn. He was in luck and the generator fired right up. He walked into the back door of the house to find the two younger girls hard at work making things livable. In the living room, Mouse was dusting off tables that had already been uncovered.

"What are you doing?" He snapped. That wasn't what he'd bought her for. He was shocked when she dropped to her knees, head bowed, hands on the floor in front of her.

"I was just trying to make things nice for you, Master. I didn't think you would want dirt. If I was to wait for instructions, I beg pardon Master." Her body bent double, with her forehead to the floor. She'd unfastened the back of her dress, and he could see tiny silver scars across her lower back, wounds that he knew without thinking were inflicted by a cane or whip.

"Get up." He snarled. She slowly stood, keeping her eyes downcast, and somehow managed to zip the back of her dress without looking awkward doing it. "I was just surprised. I didn't..."

He didn't quite know what to say. He'd bought her for his pleasure, but somehow the idea that she took the initiative to try to make things comfortable for him pleased him too.

"I await Master's instructions." He could hear the other two moving around the house, cleaning. He glanced at the clock on the mantelpiece. It was nearing two am.

"Right now, I want everyone to stop what they are doing. There is a room downstairs, off the kitchen the other two can use." He said. He watched her, waiting to see what she'd do. "You will be with me in the master upstairs." again he waited. "You can go."

She moved slowly, and didn't jump, but neither did she question him. He heard her soft instructions to the younger women, as they stopped what they were doing. He heard the door off the kitchen open, a few moments of activity, and then nothing.

"Brigite and Paulette await your orders on where to sleep." She said softly from the door.

"I told you where." He growled.

"There is a bed in the room, Master. They are confused. We have never been allowed to use furniture."

"What?"

"It is not common for Masters to allow us use of their furnishings. They can make pallets on the floor."

"Tell them to use the damned bed." He shouted. She trembled, but waited. "GO!"

She turned quickly but still did not hurry her steps. He wondered if that was a part of her training too.

He heard her give his instructions, and some more sounds of activity, then the bed springs creak as two bodies laid down on it. He heard her soft steps going up the stairs, some quick activity in the master bedroom, and then silence.

He climbed the stairs, the door to the master suite was open and he could see the bed was freshly made, where she'd found the linens he had no idea. He walked into the room. She was kneeling next to the bed, her gown folded and neatly placed next to a small pallet on the floor in a corner of the room. He let out a low growl at that, but wasn't going to let it bother him tonight. He was too hard, ready to explode, and seeing her naked, kneeling, ready to do his bidding just made the condition worse.

This is what he'd wanted when he went to the auction, someone to do exactly what he wanted. He walked to her and stood, waiting to see what she would do. She kept her eyes on the floor.

"Undress me." He said with a growl. She stood quickly, her fingers making short work of his shirt, it was quickly folded neatly and put on the trunk at the end of the bed. His belt was removed gently, but efficiently, and her fingers didn't hesitate at the fastenings of his jeans. She loosened them, then knelt and unfastened his work boots. Her solution to getting him to stand on one foot to remove them was ingenious. She simply lifted his foot onto her knees, and with a strength belied by her size held him upright while lifting his foot to remove the boot and sock. She did the same with the other boot and sock, then, still kneeling put her hands under the waistband of both his boxers and jeans, and eased them down over his hips, his erection not even giving her pause.

Again she used the same technique to get his pants off, first one leg, then the other. As soon as he was completely undressed, and his clothes neatly folded and put to the side, his boots by the fireplace, socks tucked neatly inside, she knelt again in front of him.

He stood there, waiting to see if she would take any action on her own, before growling his next command. "Take care of it."

She didn't hesitate, she simply rose to the proper height on her knees and cupped his balls gently with one hand while the other steadied his base to make it easier for her to take his thick cock into her mouth. He groaned at the heat of her mouth, and it wasn't long before his claws were wrapped in her hair, holding her in place as his hips pushed him deep down her throat. Her slight gag only made him groan louder, and pump faster. She didn't try to stop him, even when he knew she was struggling to breathe, he would pull back just enough for her to fill her lungs and then thrust deep again. Her hands were stroking his balls, kneading them with gentle pressure until he thought he was going to explode. He could feel the heat surging from the base of his cock, where her fingers stroked him. Her tongue and teeth and lips were doing amazing things, even as she struggled for air, her throat swallowing around him, pushing him closer to the edge. Finally it came and he thrust deep down her throat, his cock blocking her airway as he shot deep into her stomach. He felt her struggling to breath as he unloaded but he didn't pull back until every drop he had to give was dumped deep down her throat.

"Good job, Mouse. But I'm not done." He grinned as his cock didn't even start to sag, and her hands began to stroke him. "No, bend your ass over the bed." He ordered.

She stood gracefully, and only a slight flush, and a little bit of light bruising around her eyes showed any sign of her struggle to hang on to her life while he shot himself down her throat. Now he wanted to hear her scream. She bent gracefully over the bed, and he let out a growl at the lack of arousal from her scent. She was his to fuck, and by God he wanted to smell that she knew it. He stood behind her, forcing her to put her weight on the bed as he forced one clawed finger deep into her tight opening. His thumb found the bundle of nerves that controlled her pleasure and began to tease it. He wanted her screaming, and pain would come later, right now he wanted to smell her. Her scent slowly changed, and he growled as he bent low over her back. She jumped at the vibration, and her scent charged more. He grinned at that. She liked it rough, he'd give her rough. He pulled his hand away, licking the taste of her off his finger, before positioning himself and thrusting deep, with no warning. She hissed slightly, cutting it off almost before he heard the slight indication of pain. That wasn't good enough.

"Scream if it hurts." He grunted into her ear. "I want to hear you scream."

He pulled out and thrust deep again. This time she grunted, but again no scream. He wasn't small, and she was tight. He noticed smears of blood as he pulled out the second time and knew that she had to have felt it. He grunted back, and thrust deep again, this time not caring, feeling her extremely tight sheath around his cock made his balls tighten. He hadn't had a good fuck in months. Even his jobs lately had been single men, or men with experienced hookers that were just too damned used to give him any satisfaction. This was going to be a very long night, and he was going to enjoy every second.

He started pounding hard against her, and quiet whimpers of pain were his reward. He hadn't even used a claw on her yet, and he knew her screams would come when he rent her flesh from her bones. Evidently she warmed up nice, because except the first smears, there was no sign of blood as he fucked her, and she grew wetter as he moved, his body pistoning hard and deep. He could feel the opening of her womb with each thrust and knew he was causing pain. He had to be. As he felt her start to tremble he thought her screams would push him over the edge, but nothing happened. She trembled, she whimpered, but she didn't scream.

It suddenly occurred to him that she was actually on the brink of her own climax, but forcing herself to hold back.

"FUCK! CUM damn it." He roared. Her body tensed a moment, and then suddenly it was like a hot fist clamped down on his cock, holding him in place, the undulations of her inner muscles were so tight he almost thought he was in the wrong orifice. If her pussy was this tight when she climaxed, her ass must be like a damned vice. He'd have to try that later, was his last thought as her climax pushed him over the edge of his and he spilled his seed deep inside her. She still hadn't made more than a whimper in sound.

"Mouse, I am not pleased." He growled, his cock actually limp after that intense release. He hadn't gone limp after a fuck in years.

"Yes. Master." She panted, starting to rise. He put one hand on her back, claws lengthening slightly.

"We're not done. I am going to hear you scream, one way or the other." He hissed, claws lengthening, but not quiet piercing her skin.

"Yes. Master." She said, less out of breath.

"Now, over the trunk, and grab the foot board of the bed." He growled. She moved quickly to obey and her graceful movements, without even a limp from his intense thrusts helped him to stiffen again, both in lust and anger. The bitch would scream if he had to rip her to shreds.

Once she was in position, he brought his hand, claws fully extended down over her ass and lower back. He was surprised as the skin healed quickly, stopping him immediately. That put a whole different spin on things. She healed. He grinned. He stood behind her, watching her breathe. Even the slashing of her skin hadn't drawn a single whimper. He was going to have to work for those screams.

His first thrust was deep and hard again, but this time he slowed down, allowed himself to extend his pleasure longer as he fucked her, his hands roaming her slender body, cupping her breasts, feeling her nipples harden. He whispered in her ear as he leaned over her.

"You will cum when you need to, you will scream when you cum. If I don't hear a scream, I will punish you, and that little slap was nothing compared to what I can do." He felt her tremble and couldn't tell if it was fear, or passion that made her. He could go at this pace all night, hell all week, before he needed release again. This time he was going to fuck her until she screamed.

XXXXXXXXX

The next morning, feeling more relaxed than he had in years, he woke to the smell of breakfast. How the hell was there breakfast. There wasn't any food in the house, that he remembered.

She was curled up on her pallet, and he growled. Tomorrow night she wasn't leaving his bed. He wanted her right where he could grab her and use her whenever he wanted. She'd finally screamed, he'd had to force her to hold her climax until she nearly collapsed from frustration, and when the release finally hit her, he could tell by her scent it was more pain then pleasure, and her scream of "Master" pleased him so much he'd lost control and let loose his own roar of satisfaction as he'd filled her womb again. The Mouse had talent, and stamina. She'd kept pace, and hadn't dropped until he dismissed her. He let her sleep, for now.

The two others were downstairs cleaning. There was a plate of hot flapjacks on the table with an old bottle of syrup. He ignored the syrup, it was probably toxic at this point anyway, but the fluffy flapjacks actually tasted good. Where they found the flour he wasn't about to ask, not that they could answer him anyway.

"Get the rest of the house cleaned up. I'm going into town for supplies." He growled at them after he finished his meal. He wasn't going to ask questions. Not right now.

Mouse was walking down the stairs in her gown as he headed for the front door.

"Good job, Mouse." Was all he said as he past her. She waited at the foot of the stairs until he left.

He picked up sweats and underwear for the girls, for Mouse he bought lingerie and simple dresses to pull on over but still give him access. Food was the big purchase, and cleaning supplies. He was going to have to feed them, and remember to command them to eat.

He suddenly felt overwhelmed. They'd stop breathing if they could, he was going to have to be careful what he said, especially with Mouse. He wondered if standing commands would work.

He thought about her healing, and how well trained she seemed to be. He wondered how old she really was? Could she be older than him? At the moment he didn't care, but the idea that she could actually be a companion the rest of his life felt right. The rest of the world would certainly thank her, or at least its female population. He liked the submissive way she did things, for now, she was exactly what he needed.

He was going to enjoy breaking her in. She was going to have to learn some new rules, though. That pallet was going to go. If she was his to fuck, she slept in his bed. If she was his to fuck, she kept herself available to him at all times. If she was his to fuck...he stopped and thought about the repercussions of that...he was going to have to make arrangements for some sort of birth control, he sure as hell didn't want his Mouse to swell up like a balloon...or did he?

The idea of her swollen belly, his cub growing inside her made his stomach do a strange flop. He growled at himself. No. Cubs.


End file.
